


Why Not?

by idinathoreau



Category: Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist (TV)
Genre: Bad Dirty Talk, Bisexual Female Character, Boss/Employee Relationship, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cunnilingus, Developing Relationship, F/F, Fluff and Smut, From Sex to Love, Joan is concerned but doesn't know how to ask, Lesbian Sex, Post-Coital Cuddling, Sex Toys, Vaginal Fingering, Women Loving Women, but she doesn't want to talk about them, it's the headcannon fic!, joan's pov, so I wouldn't have to deal with songs, two people start having sex for fun and oops they're in love, your #2 choice, zoey has a lot of emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:27:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25702072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idinathoreau/pseuds/idinathoreau
Summary: Joan fiddled with her tablet, pretending she was working. “There… there are no expectations here…” She clarified. “I want you to know that.”The coder nodded. “Right.”“We wont be dating…” Joan specified. “it’s just…”“Just company.” Zoey supplied.“Yeah.”“Okay.”"Okay?""Sure." Zoey shrugged. "Why not?"
Relationships: Zoey Clarke/Joan
Comments: 32
Kudos: 86





	1. (I need) Sexual Healing

**Author's Note:**

> It's the headcannon fic!
> 
> After Joan’s divorce, she and Zoey have a no-obligation sex deal. Everything was nice and warm until they realized their true and deep feelings for each other.
> 
> I'm endeavoring to keep this short so I can continue working on the Tech Conference sequel but we shall see. Be ready for fluff and gratuitous smut.

Joan was having a bad day. 

First her _prick_ of an ex-husband had tried to take Cartier and her lawyer still hadn’t called to confirm that her little Pomeranian was safe. Then the guys at work had eaten all the Crunch Berries _again_ (she was seriously going to fire Glenn the next time she saw him) and her emergency scotch stash had run dry.

She threw herself down at her desk, huffing. To top it all off, her vibrator had fried its inner workings a week ago and her acupuncturist had advised against overworking her fingers if she wanted to avoid carpal tunnel.

Joan grit her teeth and opened her tablet so she could at least pretend she was working. 

To sum up: she was pissed, hungry, not drunk enough for any of this, and way, WAY too horny.

Joan leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes.

“God what I wouldn’t give for a sex toy…” She muttered. “Or just a hook-up…” For just a moment, she let herself picture a scenario in which she wasn’t pleasuring herself but receiving it from someone else. Someone else was squeezing her breast and playing with her nipple, someone else's fingers were drifting past her stomach and trailing in between her thighs…

 _Oh god, that would be so nice…_ At this rate, anyone would do. She just needed a release.

After a second, she opened her eyes and turned back around.

She nearly jumped out of her chair.

Zoey was standing in her office doorway, staring at her like she’d just screamed her thoughts across the office.

Joan sat up. “What…what do you want, Zoey?” She crossed her legs but quickly uncrossed them. She didn’t _think_ Zoey had heard her but what if she had? “Is…is this about the new Chirp specs?”

The coder shifted uncomfortably, her face pinched tightly. “Joan…are you…okay? Is there…anything you need?”

“No Zoey, I’m fine.” She sat on her hands to keep herself from waving the coder away. Her fingers drummed against the edges of her seat.

“Are you…sure?” Zoey asked, inching her way into Joan’s office. It was as if she really didn’t want to be there but thought that she had to be. “Cause…if you do…I can help.”

She had heard. Joan sighed and gave up all pretense of professionalism. “Not unless you’re _really_ okay with violating HR policies…” She growled, hating herself for once again showing such a vulnerability to the young coder. But she couldn’t help it. Joan couldn’t quite put her finger on it but there was something about the young redhead that made her feel like it was okay to spill her secrets. The fact that Zoey was (objectively) cute certainly helped.

Joan shook her head and spun her chair around, watching Zoey’s reflection on the photos of her dogs. _Not helpful._ Finding her subordinate attractive while her libido was this high was just asking for trouble.

Zoey pursed her lips, eyes squeezing shut. “Maybe…I am…?” She muttered after a moment.

Joan froze. “Wh…what?” She spun back around, nearly tipping herself over, hardly daring to believe what she’d heard.

Zoey refused to look at her. Her face was beet red. “Maybe I’m okay with it…?” She repeated, sounding slightly more sure of herself.

Joan could only stare. _Zoey_ , prim, innocent, kind, probably-still-a-virgin Zoey was…okay with… _pleasuring_ her boss?

“Joan…” Zoey continued, as Joan’s mouth continued to malfunction. “You’re… _lonely_ now that Charlie’s gone…I’m…always… _lonely_ …so…we could…be _lonely_ ….together?”

Joan’s typical comment about Zoey’s cryptic way of speaking evaporated as the double-meaning behind the inflections hit her. Did Zoey really want to…?

She shifted in her seat. That was…kinda hot.

“And when you say _lonely_ …” She finally managed to choke out.

Zoey’s whole face turned even redder but she soldiered on. “Uh huh. Sometimes when you get that feeling…you just need…healing.”

Joan blinked, wondering why on earth Zoey would be quoting _that_ particular song right now. She didn’t take her for a Marvin Gaye fan. “I have been…I mean…” She cleared her throat. “It might help…”

“With the loneliness.” Zoey clarified, her fists clenched.

Joan nodded. “Of course. Yeah…” Her head was spinning so much that she had trouble believing the next words out of her mouth. “My place? Tonight?”

Zoey nodded. “Yeah. Okay.” Her whole face was crimson. “I’ll…I’ll be there at 9?”

Joan nodded, already making a mental checklist of everything she’d need to prepare. “Okay. I’ll send a car.” Her heart beat a little faster at the thought that within hours, she’d be in bed with another person again. Another person who wasn’t Charlie.

Another person who was _Zoey_ of all people. She'd never imagined today turning out like this.

Zoey nodded. “I’ll…I’ll see you tonight.” Fists still clenched, she turned stiffly.

“Zoey…” Joan called as the programmer turned to leave.

“Yeah?”

Joan fiddled with her tablet, pretending she was working. “There… there are no expectations here…” She clarified. “I want you to know that.”

The coder nodded. “Right.”

“We wont be dating…” Joan specified. “it’s just…”

“Just company.” Zoey supplied.

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

Joan looked up. “Okay?” Zoey’s face was still red. But she looked determined at least. Perhaps even a little…excited.

“Sure.” Zoey shrugged. “Why not?”


	2. Make It Hurt So Good

Joan’s back hit the mattress and she couldn’t help growling softly. 

_Finally._

Zoey hovered over her, lips on her shoulder, fingers trailing along Joan’s thigh. 

Joan’s breath caught at the action. She’d obsessed all evening; unsure how Millennials did hook-ups (was there wine? food? or just sex and vapes?).

But the second Zoey showed up, she realized it didn’t matter.

This wasn’t a date. It was just sex. No expectations. No obligation. 

Zoey had certainly wasted no time in jumping right to it. If there was one thing Millennials could be counted on for, it was non-commitment. And Zoey was clearly putting no thought into any kind of relationship. Joan loved it.

It was a little scary actually, the shift that had taken place in the red-headed coder. From the second Joan had opened the door, guiding Zoey inside, the younger woman had been all business; immediately dropping her coat to reveal a skimpy black dress. Well, skimpy by Zoey’s standards. It honestly would have been the kind of thing Joan would have worn to a funeral.

“Bedroom?” Zoey had asked, a curious lack of trepidation in her voice.

Joan had only been able to gesture. Sure, she’d dressed up slightly as well (this sleek red number hadn’t fit her since her honeymoon) and had plenty of comments in mind. But the sight of Zoey in a dress like that was reminding her libido that satiation couldn’t be far.

They'd barely entered the bedroom before Zoey had stretched up to kiss her, hands already roaming.

Now Zoey was on top of her, all nimble fingers and hot lips. 

Joan pursed her lips, already squirming. God, she needed this so badly!

But something was still niggling at the back of her mind; something that the last rational part of her could not ignore no matter how turned on she was. 

Joan pulled herself back from Zoey’s incessant kissing. “Zoey…Zoey wait.”

The younger woman paused and pulled back slightly. Joan didn’t let her go far. She didn’t want Zoey to think she was having second thoughts.

“I’m _so_ glad that you agreed to this…” Joan started, trying to wrestle the words out of her lust-fogged brain, “but I’m a woman of integrity and still in a position of power over you…”

Zoey tilted her head to the side. “What are you getting at?”

Joan sat up just enough that she could look the coder in the eye. “Zoey, I want to make sure things are clear between us: this isn’t a relationship.”

Zoey nodded, almost impatiently. “Fine with me.”

Joan absorbed her flippant tone, noting it for future dissection. “There’s no danger of retribution from me or any expectation of perks.” She assured her subordinate. Joan grimaced. “And we’re not going the _50 shades_ route with this…no contracts, no NDAs…I trust you to keep this between us.”

“Of course.”

“And if you ever want out, just say the word and we stop. No hard feelings, no change in our work relationship.” Joan smiled at her. “Okay?” She wanted Zoey to feel comfortable doing this. But a small part of her wondered if giving her that out was going to come back to bite her. 

Zoey smiled back. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t down for whatever you wanted.” She assured Joan. 

Joan reached out and rubbed Zoey’s shoulder, working the sleeve down slightly. “Careful, I’ll use those words against you…”

Zoey countered by leaning down and whispering in Joan’s ear. “I’m counting on it.”

Joan shuddered. God, how long had it been since someone had talked dirty to her? Too long if her reaction was anything to go by. That or just the idea of Zoey _having_ a dirty side was way too hot.

“Now…” Zoey continued, arms sliding around Joan. “Can we cease with the talking?”

“Fine by me.”

Zoey smirked at her and pressed her lips against Joan’s. Her arms took position on either side of Joan’s hips and she slowly pressed her back onto the bed. 

Joan’s hands drifted, wandering down slim hips to Zoey’s rear. Zoey let out a tiny moan. 

All of Joan’s insides flared with sudden warmth. 

_Damn_. How had she never noticed how attractive Zoey was before?

Probably because of the age difference. And her tendency to keep the younger woman at a distance prior to her divorce. She’d assumed that a distant but firm direction was what the timid woman needed to succeed at SPRQ Point.

_Maybe I was wrong._

“Hang on there tiger…” She caught Zoey’s hands as they brushed at her chest. Slowly, she eased them back into a sitting position. “Now clearly, you’re ready to go. And I _definitely_ am. But just one more thing?”

“What?” Zoey asked, clearly starting to get a little miffed at the interruptions.

Thoughts of continuing to deny Zoey her pleasure and watching her get frustrated crossed Joan’s mind. But she wasn’t in the mood for patience. 

“Do you want to use a safe word?” Joan asked her, “I have a pretty open mind but if you don’t want to do something I ask for, you can use it too.”

Zoey considered for a moment. “How about…Rolling Stones?”

“That’s two words…” Joan pointed out.

Zoey fingered the zipper at the back of Joan’s dress. “Is that a problem?” She teased the zipper down slightly.

“Nope.”

“Good.” Zoey gave Joan a look. “Now can we _please_ keep going?”

Joan scoffed. “Where was this side of you at work?”

Zoey stiffened slightly, her fingers briefly curling away from Joan. “Do you mind if we…?”

“Right. Oops! No work talk.” Joan bit her tongue to keep herself from asking more questions about Zoey’s behavior. Despite her libido, she couldn’t contain her curiosity. “Don’t let me stop you. Carry on.” 

Zoey reached for Joan’s leg, running her hand up the long slit in the dress. Her lips found Joan’s throat, sending little pulses of pleasure all through her. Before she quite knew what was happening, Joan found the dress slipping from her shoulders. 

She smirked at the cute little flush on Zoey’s face as her skin was revealed.

“You like what you see?”

Zoey nodded, her mouth apparently having stopped working at the sight of her boss in matching lace underwear. Joan felt a flare of satisfaction that even with her years on Zoey, she could render her speechless just by showing off her body. Guess all those Pilates classes and dawn swims in the Bay had paid off.

She arched her back, noting with pride how the coder visibly swallowed. 

Joan was about to start teasing Zoey for her inaction when the younger woman suddenly surged forward. She practically tackled Joan back onto the bed, hands already cupping her breasts. Joan gasped as eager fingers brushed her nipples through the fabric.

Fumbling around her hips, Joan managed to wrestle the dress the rest of the way off, tossing it aside. Zoey straddled her, their lips connecting again.

This time, Joan moaned into the kiss as Zoey’s hips made contact with her very sensitive lower half. She could already feel her own wetness pooling between her thighs.

Impatience gripped her as Zoey continued to fondle her chest. Now was not the time for foreplay…she just needed a release.

Growling, Joan broke the kiss and caught Zoey’s hands, dragging them away from trying to wrestle her bra off. 

“No time for that.” Joan shifted, pulling Zoey’s hands further down her body. 

Zoey’s eyes widened. “W…wow. Already?”

Joan rolled her eyes. “I’ve been horny for a week.” She forced Zoey’s hand down. “Safe words are still an option. But _please_ just fuck me.”

She smirked as the coder flushed at her language. “Yes, ma’am.” Zoey’s fingers tugged at her panties, gently sliding them off her thighs. “Anything in particular you want?”

“Literally anything will get me off right now…” Joan growled, already squirming. Her libido was piqued and she didn’t want to talk anymore.

Zoey faltered, seeming paralyzed. For a moment, Joan feared she’d finally pushed Zoey too far and that the woman was going to back out and insist they never spoke of this again. 

She was too turned on for that outcome. 

Joan wrapped her legs around Zoey’s waist and pulled her close. “ _Please_ Zoey? I’m dying here.” She hated how desperate she sounded. But until she got what she wanted, she didn’t care. Joan let her legs fall open.

Zoey stared for awhile, so long that Joan almost popped her head up to check on her. But just as she did, a tentative finger entered her.

Joan gasped, body already taut. “Jeez, give a woman a warning!”

“Sorry!”

Joan squeezed her knees shut, trapping Zoey’s hand. “Stop apologizing.” Her hips were already grinding, desperate for any kind of friction.

Zoey obliged, adding a second finger as her thrusts became more confident. 

It was glorious. It was just what she’d craved. But she still wasn’t _there_. Joan huffed in annoyance, hands flailing as she tried to figure out just what was missing to push her over the edge. She brushed at her own breasts, whimpering as the edge dulled. 

Zoey leaned down, breath hot on her cheek. “Joan? What do you need?” She asked, fingers never slowing. 

“nggh! More!” Joan panted. She dug her nails into Zoey’s shoulder. God, she needed it to hurt…!

For a moment, Zoey’s eyes slid to the side, her gaze unfocusing like she was seeing something in her own head. But just as Joan thought about reaching out to her, Zoey snapped out of it and redoubled her efforts.

_Now_ it hurt.

Joan arched her back, relishing the pain. A long, low moan built in her throat. 

Encouraged by her sounds, Zoey nipped her neck.

The unexpected action had Joan’s legs twitching. “More!” She gasped, voice failing.

Zoey obliged, shifting her hand slightly so her mouth could continue its work. She left tiny, prickling bites all across Joan’s chest and shoulders, tongue tracing gently after them. 

Joan was rapidly nearing the release she craved, clenching down on Zoey’s fingers and fisting her hand in Zoey’s hair. 

_Just a little further…_ The edge was so close again…she could taste it!

Zoey’s lips found her bra and she bit down on Joan’s erect nipple through the fabric.

Joan let out a scream that vaguely sounded like Zoey’s name as she finally hit _that_ spot. 

The long-awaited orgasm tore through her with a vengeance: making every muscle in her body ripple and her breath catch. Her heart thudded loudly in her ears and the only coherent thought she had was _Zoey, Zoey, Zoey!_

The pleasure built, flooding her stomach and chest, making her melt into the bed.

She came down slowly, still panting, head slowly catching up to her body. Zoey was still gently thrusting, guiding her back down off her high. 

Joan collapsed back on her pillow, mildly surprised at the dampness beneath her head. Her muscles were trembling like she'd just run a marathon. God, when was the last time sex had been such a satisfying workout?

A soft moan escaped her as Zoey slowly pulled her fingers free. Zoey made a soft sound as well, sounding vaguely like a word Joan couldn’t make out.

As her heart finally slowed, Joan raised herself up on her arms. Rather than exhaust her, her orgasm had pumped her full of the kind of energy she hadn’t felt in almost a decade: the urge for more sexual exploration and the possibility of another such high.

To her surprise, Zoey was standing up, one shoe already on and clearly looking for the other. 

“You don’t have to go yet…” Joan called, her voice still hoarse. 

Zoey froze, shoulders tensing. “Wh…really?”

Joan crawled up to her, already tugging at Zoey’s zipper. She smirked playfully. “You get a turn too…”

Zoey inhaled as the black dress slid from her body. “Are…are you sure?” She didn’t look reluctant; it was more like surprise.

Joan frowned. Perhaps she hadn’t made it clear enough that she wanted Zoey to get something out of whatever this was too? “We’re already violating HR, Zoey…” She pulled the coder down. “you may as well get to reap some of the reward as well.”

Zoey still seemed uncertain, fidgeting her hands in her lap. Joan leaned back slightly. “We don't have to of course, I’m perfectly content to just receive and let you go on your way…”

But Zoey looked up and Joan’s teasing comment died in her throat. 

The coder nodded, face set like she’d finally decided something. “Okay.” She lay back and spread her legs.

Joan almost laughed. Not out of callousness. More from the idea that such a teasing statement had had such an instant effect on Zoey. 

It was…incredibly hot.

She crawled over Zoey’s prone body, fingers tracing exposed skin. She noted what spots Zoey reacted to and which ones she didn’t. She played with the coder’s bra briefly, hands remembering the feel of breasts and the satisfaction of feeling a nipple pebble instantly against her touch. But her own bra was still on and Zoey was squirming so she decided to abandon that journey. 

She trailed her fingers down Zoey’s chest and stomach, noting just how young and lithe she was. Zoey still had her youth and Joan couldn’t help but envy her for it.

Joan hooked her fingers through Zoey’s panties as she went, pulling them off without fanfare. They felt damp in her hand. She smirked. “Someone’s already a little excited.” She purred, twirling the panties around her finger before letting them fall.

Zoey blushed, the color traveling all over her exposed skin. Joan felt her eyes widen. 

_Damn_.

She’d really been missing out on just how cute Zoey Clarke could be. 

Joan made a path down Zoey’s body, lazily tracing her thigh. Her fingers and wrist complained as she made a brief pass at the younger woman’s clit. She frowned as Zoey twitched, flexing her over-worked fingers.

“Why’d you stop?” Zoey asked, knees coming together slightly as she looked up. The younger woman looked pained, and more than a little put-out.

Joan considered the impatient coder, a small part of her enjoying that she could make her squirm. Her fingers may be out of commission at the moment. But that wasn’t going to stop her.

“Mouth okay?” Joan asked, as casually as if she were asking Zoey about having pickles on a sandwich.

Zoey made a choking sound. Joan paused, hand resting comfortably on Zoey’s thigh, waiting to hear their safe words.

“Y…yes…” Zoey breathed. “Please.” She rubbed her knees together briefly before opening up to Joan.

Joan was astounded at the level of trust Zoey had for her. But she wasn’t complaining. She knelt between Zoey’s legs, pulling the shorter woman’s knees over her shoulders. Licking her lips, she eased herself into Zoey. 

She hadn’t ate a girl out in decades. But if Zoey’s sounds were anything to go by, Joan knew she still had her college silver tongue.

It helped that Zoey was clearly already very turned on; a fact Joan’s tongue very much relished. She tasted musky and slippery in the best way. Biting back a smile, Joan let her tongue explore, her hands supporting Zoey’s rear as her hips arched. 

When Zoey let out a keening wail, Joan knew she was close. She nipped the inside of Zoey’s thigh and dove back in. Zoey responded immediately, knees clenching against Joan's head.

She couldn’t help slipping a single finger inside and curling it back towards her. Her tongue swirled around the coder’s clit.

The younger woman’s legs jerked and before Joan quite knew what was happening, she was falling apart around her. Zoey’s orgasm was short and almost violent, her body twisting this way and that as she grunted through the release. It was over just as suddenly as it began, Zoey falling limp.

A little startled, Joan lapped at Zoey’s core a few more times, making certain that she was done. Then she gently withdrew her finger and sat up, wiping her mouth. 

She flinched.

Zoey was crying. It was barely noticeable, but her cheeks were wet and her panting breaths seemed a little too watery for post-orgasm.

“Zoey?” Joan stroked her shoulder, trying to bring the younger woman back to her from her high. “Zoey, did I hurt you?”

“N…no…No.” Zoey tried to smile at her but it looked pained. “You…wasn’t you…” But she still rolled away and stood in one smooth motion, refusing to look at Joan. Still nude, she stumbled towards the bathroom and closed herself away. 

Joan sat back on the bed, licking the last traces of Zoey from her mouth. While she knew she didn't need to care, her chest twisted at the thought that she’d accidentally done something to hurt the younger woman.

_What was that about?_

But before she could come up with any theories, Zoey emerged. Joan sat up straight, sudden apprehension flooding through her.

“Zoey…I…”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Joan.” Zoey assured her, her smile seeming more genuine now. “I just…that was more than I expected.”

“But you’re okay?” Joan clarified, leaning forward. Her concern for the coder was a surprise. But she really did care to know if she was actually okay or just faking.

Zoey shifted, looking nervous. “yeah…”

“Zoey…?” Joan couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. It was just supposed to be sex; she hadn’t meant to push Zoey that far.

“Would you mind if we…cuddled?” Zoey asked, glancing up at Joan with a faint pinkish tinge to her cheeks. “Just for a little while? Then I’ll get out of your hair…”

Joan briefly considered using their safe words. Charlie had never been big on cuddling and she herself wasn’t really a fan. She never knew where to put her arms and had never been able to get comfortable with any of her previous partners. Besides, cuddling post-sex felt a little…too intimate. That was the kind of thing sappy teenagers did.

But after what Zoey had done for her, and after the unexpected roller-coaster she’d put the coder through, why not?

She laid back and beckoned. Zoey’s face lit up. She crawled up beside her and laid her head on Joan’s shoulder. Her face was still damp. 

Joan found a semi-comfortable position for her arm around Zoey’s back and held her close. The younger woman sighed into the embrace, arms wrapped around Joan’s waist. It was the closest they’d ever been.

While Zoey closed her eyes and rocked slightly, Joan found herself unable to think about sleep. She stared at the younger woman in her arms. 

Zoey was so warm…

* * *

To Joan’s surprise, the next day at work was like any other. Well, minus the slight limp in her walk and bites across her chest. And sure, Zoey’s smile was a little brighter than usual but otherwise, they remained exactly as they had been: friendly but no further.

Zoey didn’t even shoot her secret looks across the office, instead remaining focused on her team and their project.

Joan was impressed. She hadn’t realized that the younger woman was so good at compartmentalizing. Definitely a point in her favor.

She imagined that if she’d done the same with any of the guys at the office, they’d be stuck to her side like glue as often as possible, flexing their testosterone. Or worse, slowly falling for her.

But Zoey clearly wasn’t. She still popped in on Joan a few times a day but always for work-related concerns. Her smile never showed anything more than her usual cheery demeanor and platonic fondness.

Joan sat back in her chair as she watched Zoey pack up to leave for the day. The coder was chatting with her friend Max and actually smiling. 

She shifted, feeling the small, delicate hickeys from last night protest against her high-collared blouse. Zoey had left the previous night without fanfare; eventually pulling away from their embrace and dressing in front of the mirror as Joan called her a car. 

They hadn’t even kissed good night; settling for a simple wave as Zoey descended to the waiting vehicle. 

Joan smiled. 

It was uncomplicated. Simple. Just sex and a body next to hers. Clearly, Zoey wasn’t going to let this get complicated. If they continued, that is. They hadn’t discussed anything more. 

As she watched, Zoey left Max at the elevator, turning back for something. But instead of heading for her desk, she made for Joan’s office. 

Joan fumbled to look busy, like she hadn’t just been watching Zoey leave.

“Yes?” She inquired as Zoey stepped into her office. She tapped aimlessly at her tablet screen.

“I just wanted to confirm our engineering-hardware briefing tomorrow?” Zoey was still all business, plugging something into her watch. “Is 11:15 good?”

Joan nodded, still pretending to work. “Works for me.”

Zoey nodded. “Great! I’ll let the team know.” She fidgeted, pulling the strap of her bag closer. “Oh and…one more thing?”

Joan glanced up. “Hmm?”

Zoey was watching her clock, patiently waiting for it to jump from 5:00 to 5:01.

She turned back to Joan. “Last night was really fun. Would you like to do it again sometime?” She said all this in a rush, like she’d been holding it in all day.

Joan perked up, already nodding. “Yes. Tomorrow?”

Zoey’s whole face lit up in a brilliant smile. “My place? I know it’s a bit far for you but you could…stay the night? If it’s easier?” She shook her head. “No pressure.”

Joan wasn’t super thrilled at the idea of spending a night in whatever downtown slum Zoey probably rented. But the woman had been remarkably professional and accommodating about their hookup. And she much preferred Zoey’s warmth to a vibrator so…

Joan shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *winks* 
> 
> you're welcome.


	3. Stay Over

“Oh…I got you good that time…” Joan groaned, as she rolled away from Zoey, licking her lips. Her hand lingered on soft skin, playing with fiery hair. She couldn’t help it; she missed the sensation of skin under her fingers. And Zoey never pulled away.

Zoey was still gasping for breath, a fine sheen of sweat on her face. “Y…yeah..”

They were now several days into this little agreement of theirs. Joan had been to Zoey's place once that week and Zoey had been to her’s twice. While the offer to stay the night had always remained open, Joan had yet to take Zoey up on it. Zoey had stayed for a long cuddle at Joan’s each time but always left after an hour or so.

Joan loved it. This was everything she could have hoped for: a satisfying partner who wasn’t clingy but still attentive to her needs. And one who was discrete and actually able to think beyond the sex.

She gazed down at the younger woman, her hair matted and slick with sweat, sheets tangled around her limbs, face and chest a brilliant flush and felt something give a satisfying twist in her lower half.

While this had initially been only for her needs, Joan was finding more and more that bringing Zoey to climax was just as satisfying as achieving one herself. Sometimes Zoey was nearly silent upon her release, Joan needing to check that she was done. Other times, her orgasms were violent and emotional. It was always a toss up. And something about seeing the timid younger woman so _trashed_ and loose just intrigued Joan to no end.

Zoey still hadn’t said anything, her breathing slowing and her eyes coming back into focus slowly. She stared up at Joan, completely at her mercy. 

“Cat got your tongue?” Joan teased, fingers trailing a wet line from Zoey’s chest up to her neck. Zoey shuddered.

A soft grumble came from Zoey’s stomach, halting Joan’s touch. She frowned at the naked coder. “Did you eat before you came over?”

Zoey blushed, looking mortified. “No…not…exactly…”

“Why not?”

“I…didn’t have time…?”

Joan sighed. Rolling away, she reached for her phone and typed a few things out. “I just ordered a pizza,” she informed Zoey, tossing her phone aside. “Extra large, meat-lover’s; couldn’t possibly eat it all myself…”

Zoey sat up, face still flushed. “You didn’t have to…”

Joan pulled on her robe. “Zoey, come on. You need to eat…there’s plenty for you.” She dug through her closet and found a spare robe, tossing it in Zoey’s direction.

The coder seemed stunned by the gesture. “Th…thank you Joan.”

By the time the food arrived, they’d both had time to freshen up and Joan had ushered Zoey into her living room, pointing her towards the couch. 

Zoey perched on it, now wearing clothes Joan had lent her as the dress she had arrived in was…in need of a wash. 

The pizza sat between them on the table, the two of them silent as they sat together to eat. Zoey seemed almost afraid to look at her. She was doing that thing that Joan had started to notice more and more: a kind of deep, contemplative sadness that seemed impenetrable. While it was most common after Zoey’s quick orgasms, she’d started to notice the face around the office occasionally as well.

Joan had to frown at the unexpected tension in their current situation. Now that she really thought about it, it seemed odd to just…sit on the couch together after Joan’s face had just been in Zoey’s crotch. That wasn’t a thing hookups did…right? Couches were for when getting to a bed was too difficult.

“You up for a movie?” Joan finally asked. That was a harmless enough way to pass the time and fill the silence.

Zoey perked up at that, a bit of fire returning to her eyes. “What did you have in mind?”

Pleased with herself, Joan tossed her the remote. “Anything, you pick.”

Zoey settled on the first original _Star Trek_ movie of all things, forcing Joan to listen to the younger woman’s tirades on science realism within the _Enterprise_ and the not-so-subtle queer-coding of Kirk and Spock. But more than once, Joan caught herself laughing fondly at Zoey’s passion.

They passed the rest of the day uneventfully: enjoying another movie (Joan picked this one: _The Breakfast Club_ , mainly to get Zoey to shut up about light-speed travel), cooking a nice dinner of vegetable stir-fry, and playing with Joan’s dogs. To her surprise, all of her dogs, even Hermes, took an instant liking to Zoey. Normally, they didn’t do well around strangers.

But something about Zoey’s smile and warmth had them all instantly flocking to her like she had a pocket of dog treats. Zoey gave each of them her attention, occasionally catching Joan’s eye with an almost sheepish grin. Joan could only roll her eyes. 

As the afternoon danced into night, Joan loaded her dishwasher, finding with some surprise that she was humming slightly under her breath. It was unusual to feel so comfortable with another person in her house, especially with a coworker. But something about Zoey had her eagerly sharing her time without anxiety about when she'd leave. 

She glanced over her shoulder, catching sight of the younger woman teasing Cartier with a chew toy. Even bundled up in Joan’s borrowed clothes as she was, the younger woman looked completely at home in her kitchen, so uncharacteristically relaxed. Joan watched her intently for a moment, wondering just when it had become comfortable to be around each other. Zoey was an enigma, with her warmth and her cheery sadness and her frequent stares off into nothing. She was so simple and also so unknowable. And Joan was intrigued. She had to know.

As she bent down to close the machine, hands found her hips. 

Her breath caught. “Yes?” Of course, the comfort was also helped by the fact that they’d seen each other naked multiple times.

Zoey’s hands roamed down to her butt. “You look so sexy when you bend over.” She growled in Joan’s ear. Her smaller form pressed close to Joan.

Joan trembled. Zoey so rarely initiated; always seeming content to instead follow Joan’s lead. But when the younger woman grew bold, Joan always found herself instantly melting. “Would you object to the table?” She asked, wondering if Zoey knew the effect she was having on her. If she didn’t, she must be blind. If she did…she was dangerous.

“You’re going to be the one on it…” Zoey pointed out, hands already fumbling with Joan’s pants. “Can your…back take it?”

Joan swallowed, heart thudding in her ears. She liked the danger. “Bed. Now.” As sexy as being fucked on the kitchen table sounded, she knew her back wouldn’t forgive her for it for a while.

She nudged Zoey ahead of her, pants already sliding from her hips. Zoey pushed her down, knowing by now that Joan preferred to be a bottom. In seconds, Joan was naked again, sliding her hands up under Zoey’s borrowed shirt to encourage her to strip as well. 

This time, the sex was quick and dirty, involving a lot of biting and several cheeky little slaps. Perhaps to counter-balance all the comfort of the rest of the day. 

Joan couldn’t say she disliked it. 

After they’d both reached a satisfying release, she left Zoey briefly to grab glasses of water for them both. 

But as she returned, Joan paused, her heart catching unexpectedly. 

Zoey was still in her bed, still gloriously naked and very much asleep. Her face was relaxed and loose, except for a tiny wrinkle in her forehead. 

They hadn’t exchanged the customary offer to stay the night. The words had been on her mind all day but the casualness of their afternoon had prevented her from saying them. And now…

Joan bit her lip, considering the woman asleep in her bed. Zoey was obviously very tired if she’d fallen asleep so quickly. If Joan kicked her out now, it would be an ordeal for the coder to get herself home and she’d probably just fall asleep in the Uber with a stranger. She stared as Zoey’s back slowly rose and fell with deep, satisfied breaths. A single curl of red hair fell across her cheek, moving in time with her exhales. She looked at peace.

_Aww hell_ , Joan figured. _Why not?_

So she turned off the lights and climbed back into bed.

* * *

It soon became a habit.

Joan couldn’t help it: she always worked up an appetite after sex and it felt rude to kick Zoey out while she ate. Plus, Zoey apparently never ate before coming over if her frequent stomach complaints were anything to go by.

A month after their first hook-up, a particularly loud rumble interrupted them while Joan’s face was in between Zoey’s legs. 

“Again?” She flicked Zoey’s thigh in annoyance. “What, do you keep a tiger in there?”

Zoey had tried to defend herself but rapidly descended back into moaning as Joan finished her off with a vengeance. 

Zoey was still recovering when Joan finished placing their order (Kung Pao chicken this time). She always tried to protest or to pay Joan back but she’d never succeeded. Mostly because Joan was very persuasive. But occasionally it was because Joan knew just what spot on her neck made Zoey absolutely _melt_ and that usually distracted her long enough for the food to arrive.

She tossed Zoey a robe (a robe that was quickly becoming Zoey’s Robe) and let the coder have the first shower while she waited on the food.

They usually did this at Joan’s place but she had also spent a few nights at Zoey’s cozy little slum; needing to cuddle close on Zoey’s smaller bed and dodge each other in between the bathroom and the bedroom. Several active afternoons had been spent on Zoey’s surprisingly comfortable couch. While she wasn’t a fan of Zoey’s place overall, Joan did have to love that couch.

As the delivery guy left, Zoey emerged, hair damp and heavy on her shoulders. Dropping the robe, she changed into the sweats and _NASA_ shirt that had somehow taken up residence at Joan’s place.

Joan watched as the younger woman toweled her hair dry. She was used to a certain amount of softness from the younger woman and she’d seen Zoey post-shower before. But something about this time…it just felt…different.

Zoey caught Joan’s gaze in the mirror and smiled at her. “What is it?”

Joan shook her head. “Netflix?” She asked, handing Zoey the larger portion of chicken. 

Zoey nodded. “My trash or yours?”

Joan rolled her eyes, leading the way into her living room. “I just bought you lunch; we’re doing my trash.” She resumed the last episode of _Queer Eye_. Tomford, Hermes, and Cartier scampered in to join them, prompting Zoey to put her food down so she could properly greet them.

Again, Joan watched, something seeming different. 

They fell into comfortable silence, eating and occasionally commenting on the episode or throwing a toy for one of the dogs. 

Joan shifted several times, each time finding she had unconsciously drifted closer to Zoey on the couch. She wasn’t uncomfortable. But as the afternoon went on, Joan couldn’t help dwelling on the sense of difference that clung to Zoey’s presence. 

They’d done all this multiple times before (Zoey had somehow convinced Joan to watch two seasons of _Riverdale_ , mainly because her hands tended to wander) but as they sat in comfortable silence, Joan realized what made it different this time.

The television and conversation weren’t distractions. Neither of them were just using the background noise as an excuse to make a move or rest up between moves. And Joan found she didn’t want to. Right now, she was perfectly content just staying here with Zoey, bingeing on trashy tv and Chinese food and spending time with her dogs.

It was comfortable in a way she hadn’t felt since before she’d been married. For years, it had just been her and the dogs, waiting for Charlie to come home, if he came home at all. And more recently, it had been just her. But having Zoey around was like turning on a light she’d never realized she had. A light she wanted to keep around.

Joan sighed, the action pulling her lips up in a smile as her eyes slid to Zoey's curled up form. Sometime between sharing a post-sex pizza and rolling her eyes at Jughead’s narration, Zoey Clarke had become someone she _enjoyed_ being around. Could sex lead to friendship? It seems they had proven that it could.

They finished three episodes before Zoey stifled a yawn. She made to stand. 

“Do you…want to just…spend the night?” Joan asked, the words tripping from her mouth before Zoey could say her customary polite farewell.

Zoey glanced back at her. 

Ordinarily, such words from either of them implied more bedroom activity. But Joan didn’t make a move this time. Didn’t bend down to nibble at the coder’s neck, or slid a hand down her back. And neither did Zoey. 

The coder nodded, the little happy smile Joan craved to see gracing her face. That smile belonged on Zoey's face.

Fully clothed, they curled up in Joan’s bed together, Zoey’s head on Joan’s chest.

Joan stroked red hair and drifted off to sleep. 


	4. Hooked on a Feeling?

Some mornings it was merely coffee and parting ways. But some days, Joan would awaken in Zoey’s tiny bed to Zoey sheepishly offering her a plate of lukewarm toaster waffles and crummy instant coffee that they ate on Zoey's couch. Then Joan started cooking breakfast on the mornings that Zoey stayed over. It was practical at first: Zoey didn’t have time to get back to her apartment before getting to work and Joan worried about how little Zoey seemed to eat on a daily basis. 

But then Joan found herself consciously buying for two. And noting the things Zoey liked so she could make sure to have them on hand. Making room for Zoey in her house; clearing out a drawer. Then a dresser.

She tried not to read into it. Zoey was spending a lot of time with her outside of work now; it was only logical that she make things easier for her. Zoey had certainly been accommodating of her needs; both in and out of the bedroom. Neither of them had uttered their safe words yet.

Two months passed. Their hookups had increasingly become less about sex and more about just being together: playing with the dogs, hate-watching terrible shows, and that one time they’d tried to paint Zoey’s apartment.

Okay, that time had eventually led to sex…but it hadn’t been planned.

Still, despite the…extracurriculars…their lives remained uncomplicated. And that was all Joan cared about. They could talk about a trashy reality tv show or eat each other out and not worry about anything changing. The sex remained fulfilling and exciting. Their work relationship had never been more collaborative and professional. Zoey smiled a lot.

Joan liked it. She liked it a lot.

So Joan let it become normal.

* * *

Zoey’s alarm blared, jolting Joan out of a pleasant dream about a coffee shop. “Ughhh, smash it.” She demanded, burying her face further into Zoey’s hair. She was still half in that corner shop, smelling the roasting beans. Her other half was nakedly wrapped around the coder’s naked form. It was unavoidable in Zoey's tiny bed.

Zoey shifted, dislodging Joan just enough that she could silence the alarm. “Come on.” She stroked Joan’s arm when it wrapped back around her waist. “We need to get up now if we’re going to be on time…”

Joan wriggled herself closer. “nooo…come on, we can blow off work for today…” She was warm and comfortable and far too satisfied to wake up and yell at people.

Zoey laughed, her back rising against Joan’s. “Together? Wont that raise some red flags?”

“No. We both got the flu!”

“And no one else?”

Joan sat up, glaring down at Zoey. “Zoey, as your boss and therefore the one you would report your sick leave too, I am hereby requesting that you take a sick day.” She pressed the back of her hand to Zoey’s forehead, smirking as the coder blushed. “You’re burning up. Positively flushed.”

Zoey dislodged her hand, pulling Joan’s arm back around her. “You get five more minutes…” She acquiesced, snuggling back into the embrace. 

Joan scoffed, already nuzzling the back of Zoey’s neck, drinking in her warm, post-sleep scent. “You drive a hard bargain, red.”

“You love it.”

They both froze instantly, Joan’s grip tightening ever so slightly.

_Shit…did she just?_

Her gasp tickled the back of the younger woman’s neck. She could feel Zoey laying like a plank of wood in her arms, still but for the rapid rise and fall of her back. 

_Say something!_

But her mouth wasn’t cooperating. It was just hanging there; open and dumb. 

Zoey rolled towards her slightly, enough that she could look at Joan. The younger woman bit her lip, something like an apology on her face. 

Joan stared at uncertain blue eyes, the weight of the moment making it hard for her to breathe. Her brain, caught in a sudden inferno of fear, still didn’t know how to make it all warm and comfortable and easy again. Laughing it off felt wrong. Ignoring it was impossible.

So she did the only thing she could think of. She rolled Zoey over fully and started kissing herself a path down the younger woman’s nude body. 

Zoey’s hands immediately fisted in her hair and her legs wrapped around Joan’s neck as she got between them. This was practiced. This was familiar. Uncomplicated.

Within a minute, the coder was moaning Joan’s name, already beginning to twitch. Joan went all out: running her fingers softly down Zoey’s thighs, nibbling at her clit, and thrusting hard with her tongue. She used every trick she’d learned over the past two months to bring Zoey to a drawn-out, violent climax. 

With her face in Zoey’s crotch, Joan couldn’t respond to what had been said. By the time she brought Zoey down off her high, she needed to leave to get to work anywhere near on time.

Heart racing, she left Zoey tangled in the sheets to recover and darted out of the apartment.

* * *

Joan stalked through the streets to _SPRQ Point_ , annoyingly turned on by her work on Zoey and her concern still swirling heavily in her chest. She barked at someone taking their sweet time in the doorway of the lobby, just to feel a little better.

_What the fuck was that?_

Zoey’s slip-up had haunted her the whole way to the building. 

Surely…Zoey had just meant that Joan found her charming? Incorrigible? Annoyingly cute?

Because there was no way she’d meant…that she actually…no.

Joan shook her head. She _liked_ this thing they had. It was casual but fun. Nice. There was no pressure and no expectations. Nothing resembling love. Just two women hanging out and having sex with each other semi-regularly. She could kick Zoey out of bed if she wanted and there would be no hard feelings, no loud arguments or passive-aggressive retribution. Not that she ever _would_ …

_Oh_.

Joan stopped dead. People moved around her in the lobby as she rooted in place. The half-formed realization twisted her entire lower half into the ground. The image of the coder tangled in bed sheets, sweaty and satisfied in the dawn light tugged at her heart and she had a sudden urge to be back there.

_Fuck_.

She may have already gone too deep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the chapter count went up...because of course it did...


	5. Side Effects

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TW - intimate partner sexual pain, mentions of blood (it’s unintentional by the instigator but still might be worth the TW)**

They didn’t see each other for a solid two weeks.

At first it was purely coincidental: Joan had a conference to attend and when she returned, Zoey was bogged down with new specs on the Chirp and had no time for herself, let alone Joan.

But as the 15th day without their usual meetups came around, Joan realized that she was, in fact, avoiding Zoey.

Why was that? Was it because of the…slip up?

Or because ever since her revelation in the lobby, she hadn’t been able to look at herself in the mirror? 

She’d slept horribly without Zoey’s regular presence. And without their usual post-coital meals and the pressing need to make sure Zoey ate enough, she’d lost any semblance of an eating schedule. Her vibrator no longer got the job done and her fingers couldn’t be counted on for long. Work had taken over again and she’d returned to her pent-up, angry, horny self that had started this whole thing.

She tried not to think about the reason.

They still worked as efficiently and smoothly as ever. If there was any miracle in all of this, it was that that aspect of their relationship never changed. Zoey was polite and friendly in all of their conversation, even if her smile was more subdued.

Joan tried not to notice.

They didn’t mention it. The L-word.

* * *

“So the boys are working on the AR interface and I’m reevaluating the timeline to see if we can’t get the test model complete by early next year.” Zoey concluded, closing her tablet and nodding to Joan.

Joan took over the meeting, informing hardware in no uncertain terms that they needed to get their heads out of their butts and get on Zoey’s estimated schedule. A quarter of an hour later, she touched Zoey lightly on the arm as everyone moved to leave the conference room.

“You…you free tonight?” She asked; throat sticking, eyes anywhere but on Zoey.

The coder nodded, brightening instantly and Joan hated that she liked the sight. “Yes. Of course! What…what were you thinking?”

Joan was thinking a lot. She was thinking that if she could only convince herself that she didn’t actually want Zoey like _that_. That she could remove emotion from this entirely and be selfish and unfeeling and push Zoey far enough away that she’d never want to come back anyway. That she needed things to not be so comfortable and easy anymore.   
She could let go of Zoey while keeping up the sex. This feeling was...nothing.

“How would you feel about bondage?”

Zoey’s smile slipped slightly and Joan was sure she’d finally pushed her too far. “S..sure.” Zoey stuttered.

Joan frowned. “Really?” She wanted to remind Zoey that she was by no means obligated to bend to Joan’s every little sexual whim. But such a sentiment felt too raw right now, too emotional.

Zoey smiled at her but instead of her previous joy, this one was more reserved and perhaps a little excited. “Why not?”

* * *

They tried several things.

First it was just one handcuff. Then Joan insisted on two since one still left her a disobedient hand free to grope the coder. Zoey brought a whip into the mix one night and Joan took to it instantly. She liked feeling the stings the next day and seeing Zoey squirm at her desk from welts she had caused. She convinced herself it was just because of the power trip it gave her. They traded roles at first but Joan quickly found that a dominant Zoey was too much for her. With Zoey whispering commands in her ear and drawing a whip across her back and butt, Joan felt herself slipping dangerously close to the kind of arousal and trust that made her want to never let go. So she insisted on taking over.

Joan unpacked her dildo after a week of experimentation. Zoey’s eyes widened when she showed it to her. She took so long to respond that Joan almost reminded her about their safe words. But she stopped herself. Again.

Zoey let her use the toy. And the whip. Every night for another week. She stopped asking to give and just received all of Joan’s frustrations.

Each night, Joan made up some excuse to leave or send Zoey home. They stopped cuddling. They stopped sharing meals.

Once, Zoey insisted on a movie. Even though she was dying to see it (new Jim Carrey comedy, _hello_!) and honestly quite sick of the amount of rough sex lately, before the halfway mark, Joan had Zoey under her, the younger woman biting hickies across her breasts and raising welts on her thighs with the whip. Her release resolved none of her tension. If anything, it just made her feel more jittery.

She kicked Zoey out before the credits rolled and sat in her bathtub naked until the water went cold.

* * *

A few nights after the botched movie night, Joan once again found herself getting a little sick of all this nonsense. And it was getting harder to deny why.

She missed their cuddles. She missed teasing that spot on Zoey’s neck just enough to get the younger woman excited. She missed just yelling at a television about dumb plot twists. She missed swatting Zoey’s hand away from her pizza crusts and pointedly ignoring when Zoey stole the extra egg roll. She missed Zoey’s laugh.

She couldn’t miss Zoey’s laugh.

And no matter how much sex they had, she still felt so angry all the time. This was worse than how she’d felt before all this started. At least then, she could blame her libido for the bad temper. Now, she had no excuse.

“Joan?” Zoey’s gentle hand on her shoulder brought her back from her musings. It was late and Zoey was still at her house, despite the long day they’d both had at work and the few hours of fooling around they’d already accomplished. Zoey was still panting from a particularly rough experience under Joan’s whip.

Joan pulled back slightly, finishing adjusting the harness so she won’t have to look Zoey in the face. 

“You okay?” Zoey asked, blue eyes brimming with concern. “You’ve been pretty quiet tonight.”

“I’m fine.” Joan lied, her tone clipped. “On your knees.”

Zoey licked her lips and turned over, assuming a position with her rear facing Joan.

Joan lubed up the dildo and got in position. Seizing Zoey’s hips, she plunged it in without warning.

Zoey gasped, body tensing in surprise but said nothing. Joan bit her tongue. She could tell Zoey wasn’t a huge fan of the toy. But Zoey never said anything about it and Joan didn’t know how to ask without sounding concerned. She wasn’t concerned. Not at all.

Shaking her head, she pushed deeper. Zoey’s gasp became a shriek. Something shifted against the dildo head and the shriek became a cry of pain.

Joan retreated instantly. “Zoey?!”

The younger woman collapsed on her elbows, her whole body trembling with gasping sobs, trying to peel away from Joan and unable to.

“Zoey!” She eased herself out of her as gently as she could. The tip of the dildo was dark red. 

“…oh no…Zoey…” Joan ripped the thing out of the harness and tossed it aside, hands hovering over Zoey’s prone, shaking form. “No…” For the first time all night, she really took in the woman before her.

It was only then that she saw the true damage of all this experimentation. The bruises fresh and old that laced Zoey’s back and sides from the whip. The persistent red marks around her wrists from where the handcuffs had chaffed from multiple nights of use. The dark circles under Zoey’s eyes and the exhausted trembles her body gave with each pathetic whimper of pain.

“Zoey…” She’d done this to her. 

Her stomach clenched in revulsion. How had she let this happen?

Zoey curled into a ball, tears streaming down her face and Joan felt her fragile convictions shrivel and die.

She couldn’t kick her out or pretend not to care. She couldn’t do it. Not after all that. She’d _hurt_ her. 

Hands shaking, she brushed Zoey’s shoulder. Her heart broke as Zoey flinched. 

“Oh Zoey…” She eased her arms slowly around and under the smaller woman and lifted. Zoey curled instantly into her chest, tears still falling. Joan held her tightly, wishing her arms could convey her regret.

Joan carried Zoey into the bathroom and set her gently on the toilet seat. Zoey let out a pained moan as Joan released her, clutching her stomach. 

“I’ve got you…I’ve got you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She didn’t know what else to say. She couldn’t begin to make sense of her needs anymore, especially not ones that had driven her to such an outcome. 

So she tried everything. She gave Zoey aspirin, water, tissues for her tears, pads to soak up the spots of blood, a cool rag for her bruises, a warm cup of tea, gentle touches. The apology repeated over and over like a mantra.

When Zoey finally stopped shaking, her body going limp with exhaustion, Joan scooped her up again and carried her to the couch. She dressed Zoey in her sweats, pulled a blanket over her and sat next to her prone form, stroking the angry purpling marks on Zoey’s back and trying very hard not to cry. Her throat was too tight to speak.

_I’m so sorry, Zoey._

* * *

Body riddled with bruises and her lower half rebelling in red-hot pain, Zoey couldn’t move. But she didn’t feel trapped. 

She was feeling Joan tenderly caress her aching skin and trying to drink in the Song (the first one she’d had in weeks) guiding the action. 

_Was the one who wanted no strings_  
 _Now I’m tying us together_  
 _Tell myself I wouldn’t feel things_  
 _If I labeled us whatever_  
 _But the way you put your clothes on_  
 _While you dancing in the mirror_  
 _Got me thinking it’s been so long_  
 _Since I felt so fucking_ _unwell_

_I’ve been losing sleep, I can’t eat_  
 _I’m so weak,_ _oh (oh)_

_I wasn’t looking for this_  
 _Now I don’t want this to end_  
 _Lying on the kitchen floor_  
 _Feeling all the side effects_  
 _I had it all together_  
 _Now you make me such a wreck_  
 _Lying on the kitchen floor_  
 _Feeling all t_ h _e side effects_

_You’re the kind of medication_  
 _Like it’s taken off the shelf_  
 _Giving me these complications_  
 _You turn me_ _into someone else_

_Now I’m losing sleep, I can’t eat_  
 _I_ ’ _m so weak, oh (oh)_

_I wasn’t looking for this_  
 _Now I don’t want this to end_  
 _Lying on the kitchen floor_  
 _Feeling all the side effects_  
 _I had it all together_  
 _Now you make me such a wreck_  
 _Lying on the kitchen floor_  
 _Fe_ e _ling all the side effects_

_Oh, I’m feeling all the side effects_  
 _And it makes me sick and I try to quit_  
 _But I get so high_  
 _I get so high_  
 _Oh, I’m feeling all the side effects_  
 _And it makes me sick and I try to qui_ t  
 _But I get so high_  
 _I get so high_

_I don’t want nobody else_  
 _It makes me sick_  
 _I don’t wanna ask for help_  
 _I try to quit_  
 _But now I’m losing s_ l _eep, I can’t eat_  
 _I’m so weak, oh (oh)_

_I wasn’t looking for this_  
 _Now I don’t want this to end_  
 _Lying on the kitchen floor_  
 _Feeling all the side effects_  
 _I had it all together_  
 _Now you make me such a wreck_  
 _Lying on t_ h _e kitchen floor_  
 _Feeling all the side effects_

_Oh, I’m feeling all the side effects_  
 _And it makes me sick and I try to quit_  
 _But I get so high (but I get so high)_  
 _I get so high_  
 _Oh, I’m feeling all the side effects_  
 _And it makes me si_ ck _and I try to quit_  
 _But I get so high_  
 _I get so hig_ h

She didn’t know what it was supposed to mean. But it felt like the sincerest apology she’d ever gotten. And it made Zoey feel like she was crossing a dangerous threshold. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically - Joan doesn’t know what she’s feeling and doesn’t know how to communicate her complicated feelings to Zoey. I debated a lot about keeping this in since I dont usually write rougher stuff like this but I felt it was important for Joan to realize just how soft she is for her little coder. 
> 
> Also, oops another song from the zoey x joan mix ended up referenced in here!


	6. I Can’t Help (Falling In Love)

“I think I’ve been…working you a little too hard lately.” That was the best she could manage in her office the following day. 

Zoey seemed surprised. “What? No…no everything’s…”

Joan held up a hand, wincing. “Zoey…I hurt you. You’re limping.” It still sickened her to see the damage she’d done. “Let’s…cool off a bit?”

Zoey looked like she wanted to protest more but she only said: “O…okay…”

“I dont mean stop!” Joan insisted, her heart rate picking up, “Just…” she sighed, hating herself. “look, what are you doing tonight?”

“N…othing…?”

Joan tried to smile. “Want to…go out and do something? No funny business: you need to heal. Just…let me make the other night up to you…as a friend?” It was all she could think of to start trying to apologize to Zoey for her recent string of bad behavior.

Zoey considered for only moment but it was long enough that Joan started to feel real fear of rejection crawling through her insides. Finally, the coder shrugged. “What did you have in mind?”

* * *

They settled on a dive bar several blocks away from work. It was just seedy enough that no one they knew was likely to be there but upscale enough that Joan didn’t fear for their wallets.

She bought Zoey a drink and they tried to chat over the music. Zoey was friendly and easy-going, telling Joan all about the pre-baby antics going on in her brother and sister-in-law’s life with an unforced smile. But Joan still saw the occasional wince as Zoey shifted in her seat. She took note of every time Zoey’s hand drifted to her lower stomach.

Joan felt unworthy. She didn’t deserve to be here. She kept her hands to herself, lest they wander the younger woman’s form again and reawaken the urges to harm her. If nothing else, she was determined to salvage their friendship from this disaster. And so she wasn’t allowed to touch Zoey, not after everything she’d put her through and certainly not if their friendship was going to survive this.

But Zoey couldn’t seem to stop touching her. Small taps on her knee, brushing her hand where it rested on the bar, leaning forward to speak into Joan’s ear. Every touch set Joan on edge and she couldn’t tell if she liked it or hated it.

After awhile, she excused herself to use the bathroom.

Joan leaned against the sink and stared at her reflection. The alcohol was making her sad and magnifying the guilt still twisting up her insides. _What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I just tell her I’m sorry?_

The words felt hollow by now. Was the fact that Zoey was here and treating her so casually enough? Had the coder already forgiven her…?

Joan shook her head. _No. No way_. Even Zoey, the woman who’d forgiven her own best friend for selling out to the 6th floor couldn’t possibly forgive her that quickly. Not after all that.

She left the bathroom and turned her eyes back to the bar. She frowned as her gaze immediately fell upon the epitome of a douche giving the poor girl in front of him a smarmy-drunken smile.

Her blood boiled as she recognized the woman. 

He was looking at _her_ Zoey. And Joan didn’t like it. 

Without thinking, she stalked over and slid between them, eyes laser-focused on Zoey’s. Her arm wrapped towards Zoey’s on the bar, her hips angled towards hers but didn’t quite touch her. Joan didn’t care what the guy thought; her body language couldn’t have been clearer to either of them: _back off, she’s mine_.

She trembled at the strength of her feelings, at the impulsive desire to just claim Zoey and protect her. Zoey may not ever let her be intimate with her again. But Joan wasn’t going to let anyone else hurt her. 

The douche had no sooner left than Zoey just fucking grabbed her. Hands slid under her shirt, tugging Joan’s hips against Zoey’s. A tongue probed at her lips until they opened. 

Joan stumbled, shaken. “Zoey…”

“I don’t care…” Zoey mumbled, lips still mashed against Joan’s. “I _want_ you. Now.”

The demand mixed dangerously with the alcohol, completely shutting Joan’s critical thinking processes and lingering guilt down. She gave in completely to the coder. It had been so long since she’d just let Zoey tell her what to do. It was intoxicating.

They ducked and wove through the other patrons and stumbled back into the empty bathroom, barely able to keep their hands off each other. 

Joan was hesitant to undress Zoey but even this drunken pawing at her through their clothes had her heart returning to those days on her couch, watching movies together. 

Zoey had no such hesitation. She tore open the top of Joan’s shirt and popped one of her breasts free from its cup. Her tongue found Joan’s hard nipple instantly. 

Joan fell back against the stall door, breath catching. “Zoey…” The aforementioned only slid her hands around Joan’s back, mouth drawing her in deeper. Joan’s hands went to the coder’s head, fingers tangling gently in her fiery hair.

It felt so good to just be them again: not forcing anything just doing what felt right.

Zoey pushed Joan back into a stall and slammed the door shut behind them. Her fingers went to her boss’ waist immediately, sliding down Joan’s thighs to lift the edge of her skirt.

“Zoey…!” Joan bit her lip as the coder confidently pushed her underwear aside to give her fingers access.

“Shhh!” Zoey chastised her, even though the bathroom was empty and the music pounding loudly outside. She slid two fingers inside of Joan and did that thing, that gentle scissoring motion that always threw Joan right to the edge.

“Nnngghhh!” She clamped her free hand over her mouth but she was already so close. “ _Zoey_ …” 

Zoey just nipped at her neck.

Three seconds later, a strangled cry ripped from her and her back thumped loudly against the stall door as she came hard and fast around Zoey’s dexterous fingers. 

Zoey started to laugh, fingers still buried in Joan up to her knuckles. 

“What?” Joan couldn’t help the punchy-drunky smile that her face adopted at the sound. She felt so loose and calm, all of the tension in her body evaporating from the orgasm. She stroked Zoey’s head. “What’s so funny?”

Zoey couldn’t seem to stop giggling. “I’m…I’m fucking you…in a bar bathroom…” she buried her face in Joan’s shoulder, biting back her mirth and shaking.

Joan stroked her head again. “Zoey?”

The coder looked up at her, an expression on her face that Joan recognized. Her heart jumped as she realized she hadn’t seen that expression in the longest time. And she’d missed it.

“Come home with me?” Zoey asked.

She was weak. She couldn’t say no.

* * *

The trip back to Zoey’s was a blur of drunk stumbling, yelling at taxi drivers, and Joan desperately trying to keep her torn shirt and wet panties hidden under her jacket. 

They stumbled into Zoey’s apartment, giggling and knocking into things in the dark until Joan finally found the light. 

Murmurs became whispers and the whispering quickly led to more kissing. Zoey hooked one leg over Joan’s hip, her free hand pulling Joan’s down to her breast.

Even through her drunk haze, Joan recognized the signal. “Zoey…no…” She pulled back. Joan frowned down at her, one hand rubbing the coder’s stomach gently. “You’re still healing.”

Zoey pouted but didn’t argue. “Then I guess you get another turn.” 

Her eyes darkened. “If you insist…”

Zoey jumped up to straddle Joan’s hips and Joan carried her to the bedroom. It was so easy.

Zoey’s bed was unmade but it hardly mattered. Joan sat down, bringing the coder with her so that Zoey was straddling her. Through desperate kisses, they freed each other from clothing, moving only to slide their underwear from each other’s hips.

Joan was drinking in the sensation: Zoey, naked and pressed close to her once more. The warmth was as delicious and soothing as her final glass of bourbon had been. 

“Joan…” Zoey broke in in between kisses. “if you’re up for it…let’s try something?”

Joan moved her lips down to Zoey’s neck, teasing Zoey’s spot. “Like what?”

Zoey shuddered but gripped Joan tightly. “I got a new toy…”

Her breathy response had Joan pausing and pulling back. Zoey climbed off of her and opened her top dresser drawer. She held out a small dildo for Joan to see.

“You got me so good with yours…” she gave Joan a timid smirk that was clearly meant to be seductive. “want to see what I can do to you?”

Joan recoiled at the memory, the guilt crashing back in. She turned away and hugged herself, once again struggling to find the words to apologize. 

But a gentle hand on her shoulder stopped her from falling back down her guilt hole. “Joan…it’s okay. Really.” Zoey gave her a soft, genuine smile. “I’m not mad.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

It seemed Saint Zoey really was capable of instant forgiveness, even on Joan’s part. That or this was all some diabolical revenge plot. 

So, Joan figured, why the hell not? Let Zoey hurt her if she needed that. Joan deserved it. 

She watched Zoey get ready, part of her apprehensive the other just a little excited. 

When everything was in place, the coder smiled and pushed Joan down onto the bed. She gasped, already feeling thick desire for a dominant Zoey pooling in her stomach.

Zoey crawled over her, completely ignoring the strap-on. Instead, she focused entirely on Joan’s breasts. Each one received a thorough once-over by Zoey’s fingers and lips until Joan was squirming in anticipation. 

But even then, Zoey didn’t enter her. Her hands traveled the length of Joan’s body, tickling the sensitive spot on her left side and pinching the edge of her butt. She gently parted Joan’s legs and ran her fingers through Joan’s slick folds.

By this point, Joan was on the verge of begging. But before she could find her voice, the tip of the toy was pushing slowly past her entrance. 

She tensed but relaxed almost instantly, shocked. It didn’t hurt. Zoey’s thrusts were gentle, timid almost. She wasn’t trying to hurt her. 

Zoey glanced at her, checking in on her with an unguarded smile that had Joan melting into her. Zoey ran her hands up Joan’s arms and wrapped her in a brief hug as she thrust again. Joan trembled. Everything the coder was doing was effortlessly turning her on.

“Oh god…!” Joan clutched Zoey to her, her body rocking in time with the younger woman’s thrusts. How did she just _know_ what to do? She wrapped her ankles around the younger woman’s thighs and drew her closer. Zoey responded instantly, thrusting deeper but keeping the same rhythm. 

Joan gasped, riding the sensation as a current of something welled up from deep in her chest. 

She only fought it only for an instant before Zoey’s gentle thrusts and soft nibbles on her shoulder had her dropping her guard entirely.

She couldn’t help it…she’d been so afraid of things getting complicated but…

Joan stroked Zoey’s hair and moaned into the soft release. It wasn’t a mind-blowing orgasm. But that was okay. It was just what she needed. A gentle reminder of how good this thing they had could be when they didn’t force it.

Zoey brought her down gently, smirking playfully at Joan as she slowly withdrew the toy. The coder flicked the side of Joan’s breast. “Gotcha.”

Joan had to laugh, the action just as necessary and fulfilling as the orgasm had been. Between the alcohol, the guilt, Zoey’s words, and the intimate sex, all of her walls were well and truly shattered by this point. Zoey had easily knocked them all down.

She’d been fighting it, fighting feeling exactly this: the sensation of belonging with someone, of trusting someone completely and feeling satisfied with that. No matter what Zoey did to her, she was always going to forgive her. She wasn’t afraid to be herself around Zoey. She’d known that since the L-word. She’d just been denying herself the chance. 

Joan tugged Zoey forward, pressing their lips together. She smiled into the kiss, letting it warm her from the inside out. 

It seemed that she couldn’t help falling in love with Zoey Clarke.

The thought had no sooner crossed her mind than Zoey stilled. The coder pulled back slowly, her eyes distant and unfocused. 

Joan watched her in confusion for a moment but before she could make a move to rouse Zoey, the woman shook herself out of it. 

Now Zoey was giving her another of her wide-eyed stares, as if Joan had said her thoughts out loud. 

Joan felt her insides turn to ice. “Hey…hey.” She tried to sound soft, despite her heart beating unnaturally fast. There was no way Zoey could know what revelation she’d just had, right? But as she reached for Zoey’s arm, the younger woman flinched back.

“Zoey?”

“R…rolling Stones.” Zoey stuttered. She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly modest in her nudity.

Joan sat up, hardly daring to believe it. “Zoey?” The coder couldn’t seem to look at her all of the sudden. She fumbled the toy out of its harness and threw it aside.

“Joan, I think you should go…”

“Zoey…what did I…?” Zoey had never kicked her out of bed before. Joan didn’t know what she’d done. Had it been the kiss? Or had the whole night simply been too much?

But unlike their first time, Zoey didn’t reassure her that she’d done nothing wrong. Unlike the previous night, she didn't let Joan comfort her.

Zoey stood, wrapping herself in a towel. “Just…just go?” She asked, in the softest whisper Joan had ever heard. She pointed to the door. “Please?”

How could she deny her anything when she asked like that?

“O…okay.”


	7. (I wanna) Hang Out With You

That moment haunted Joan.

She didn’t even try to sleep, instead spending the dark hours pacing and trying to figure out how to address this; if at all. She replayed the whole night endlessly: the drinking, the bar bathroom, the cab ride back to Zoey’s, the sex in her apartment, the kiss. And nothing.

When she found nothing in that night, she went back further. She had to have done something…said something offhand or asked for something too weird, or accidentally ignored a deployment of their safe words.

But there was nothing there. Their relationship had been pretty vanilla up until they went off the rails with the toys and bondage. And she knew where that had gone wrong. Neither of them had ever used the safe words until last night. 

Was Zoey finally feeling resentment because of the injury the other night?

Or, had Zoey somehow realized that Joan had fallen too far? She’d gone too deep and must have done something to show that. And Zoey had rejected her feelings.

Joan stopped and drained her third glass of scotch.

Maybe it would be better if they just pretended the whole thing never happened.

* * *

Zoey took one look at her the next day at work. And promptly ran the other direction.

Joan almost called after her but her voice was stuck somewhere in her throat. And even if she did talk to Zoey, she had no idea what to say. Apparently, Zoey wanted to ignore this.

So she sulked in her chair, spying on the coder from between the slats of her office while she pretended to work.

Zoey avoided her during the rest of the day, skipping their usual daily check-ins and using the bathroom at odd times so they wouldn’t run into each other. Joan was about to consider just calling Zoey into her office but at that exact moment, Zoey left for the day.

And so, Joan passed another sleepless night wondering and draining her oldest bottle of scotch and getting incredibly depressed. Ironic: she was the one who had wanted this to be casual and fun. And now here she was, broken and drifting because _Zoey Clarke_ had kicked her out of bed.

_Pathetic_.

But to her surprise, Zoey was waiting for her in her office at 9 sharp the following morning.

Joan’s heart stopped as she caught sight of her. “Zoey….”

The woman was quiet, just looking at Joan with an expression she couldn’t read. She looked like she had been up all night too. Or maybe crying.

“Joan…I…” Zoey swallowed hard, seeming unable to speak. 

“Zoey…” Joan stepped closer, clasping her hands to keep them away from Zoey. She felt like pulling her into a hug and never letting go.“What can I do for you?” She tried hard to keep it professional, unsure what the coder’s intent was.

“Can we…talk…?” Zoey glanced around. “Not here?”

* * *

The conference room was empty. Joan didn’t know if she should sit so she followed Zoey’s lead. The younger woman paced in tiny steps.

“I…I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you.” Zoey started, wringing her hands. “And I’m sorry for…for kicking you out the other night.”

“Zoey…it’s fine.” Joan assured her, amazed that Zoey was somehow the one apologizing. She leaned on the table, trying to sound casual. “We said…”

“I know what we said Joan…” Zoey interrupted, turning wide eyes on her. “but that still doesn’t make it okay.”

Joan scoffed, feigning disinterest as best she could. “I’m a big girl Zoey, I can handle you kicking me out of…”

“I didn’t want to.” Zoey interrupted again.

Well that threw her for a loop. “D…didn’t want to what?”

“I didn’t want to kick you out.”

“Then why did you?”

“You…” Zoey wrung her hands. “…you scared me.” she finally admitted, sounding sheepish.

She knew it. She _had_ done something wrong. “Zoey…tell me. What did I do?” Joan stepped towards her, practically pleading. “Whatever it was, I’m so, so sorry and I…I’ll never do it again.”

Zoey took her hands, stilling Joan’s mouth. “It was nothing you did.” She assured Joan. “believe me, you were perfectly…perfect. It…it’s me.”

Well that didn’t clarify anything. “Okay…explain?”

Zoey sighed. “It’s…because of the reason I agreed to all of this in the first place….” Her thumbs stroked Joan’s hands absentmindedly and Joan found herself fixating on the sensation. She was quiet as Zoey found her words.

“I just…my life’s a wreck right now…I didn’t know who I loved or who to help and my dad’s dying and I just…” Here Zoey cut herself off, swallowing her own ramble, her eyes damp. Joan waited, heart thudding heavily in her chest.

“You…You were always there.” Zoey finally continued. “So strong and so beautiful and only concerned about me as a person. I…I just wanted to feel something that had no strings tying me back to all the anxieties of my life.”

“Right…” Joan didn’t know what to say to that. But it sounded like a rejection.

“But Joan…” Zoey squeezed her hands and let go. “This thing we have…lately it…it’s stopped being stress-free.” She glanced up at Joan. “I…I’ve started worrying more, about what to do around you, how to talk to you…it…it’s confusing…”

Joan stiffened. “I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.” She pushed past Zoey, humiliation churning in her stomach. _Of course. Of course, I fucked it up._

A smaller hand closed around her wrist, halting her departure. “No!” Zoey insisted, “No, Joan please don’t apologize. Don’t go.” 

Joan paused, feeling more than a little emotional whiplash from whatever Zoey was trying to tell her. “Okay…?”

Zoey hadn’t let go of her wrist. She stroked Joan’s arm, clearly trying to chose her words carefully. “You don’t owe me an apology…Truthfully, I’ve been anxious about this whole…thing we have going on from the start.” Zoey admitted. “But… I realized the other night that…I feel more than just that. I _want_ to feel more.” She fixed Joan with a soft gaze. “And I think you do too.”

Joan shivered under the force of that look. It was like Zoey was peering right into her soul. And liking what she saw.

Zoey offered her a timid smile as she released Joan’s arm. “So…I…I know we said we didn’t owe each other anything…but…” she twisted her hands, “…would you…ever consider…? The possibility of…m…maybe the two of us…?”

“I’m free tonight.” Joan said immediately, her heart jumping to her throat. “6:30. Carlino’s. I’ll send a car to get you.”

Zoey nodded so fast, Joan worried her head was loose. “YES. Yes…that…that would be great.” Her face split into a wide smile and Joan felt her heart relax for the first time in months. 

“I…I’ll see you tonight then…” Joan nodded and turned to walk away. She felt like she was trembling.

“Joan?” Zoey called, just as she was about to leave the conference room.

“Hmm?” She turned back, part of her apprehensive. 

Zoey was blushing but her smile hadn’t shifted. “It’s just _dinner_ …so…”

Joan cocked her head. “So?”

“So…” Zoey took a deep breath and soldiered on. “…we have get to get to three before sex is on the table.”

Joan laughed, surprised at the fond warmth the action brought to her chest. 

“Okay.”

Zoey beamed.

“Okay?”

Joan was fairly confident she could make it to three _dinners_ before showing Zoey how much all this meant to her. Maybe she could negotiate an actual table into the mix this time.

“Sure.” She smiled at Zoey, feeling the action warm every inch of her body. “Why not?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was that hard? No. 
> 
> Then why did it take me 60k to reach that point in Tech Conference?! 
> 
> Well, still took me 2 months and 13K here but the point still stands.
> 
> Thank you all for reading and leaving your kudos and comments!


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